Way of the Barefoot Zombie

by Jasper Bark

  The drums got faster and the dancers became wilder and more frenetic. As the drums reached a rhythmic peak the dancers took a deep swig from the rum and then blew it in a fine spray at the torches.

  The stage was shrouded by a curtain of flames. When they cleared, there stood Doc Papa. And as quickly and mysteriously as he seemed to have appeared, the dancers were gone.

  Tatyana started when she saw him. As did everyone else. His mere presence seemed to have a physical impact on all of them. As though he had reached out and slapped or shaken them.

  Tatyana could not take her eyes off him. She had never seen anyone with so much charisma. It emanated from him with all the force of an ocean breaking against the shore.

  "Honneur la maison!" said Doc Papa in a rich deep voice that filled the hall. "Messieurs et Dames, bonswa." He held his arms open and smiled so broadly that everyone felt honoured to be greeted by him. He was a tall, imposing man with the light brown complexion of a Creole. Though he carried a lot of weight he moved with such an assured grace that you hardly noticed it.

  He wore a dark blue suit and a white silk shirt that fitted him so perfectly they probably cost more than an average person made in a year. Around his neck, on a golden chain, hung a rattle covered with a network of what looked snake vertebrae. That must be the asson that the chauffeur had told them about, Tatyana realised.

  "Congratulations on becoming one of the true elite," Doc Papa said. "As a breed apart you are used to making good decisions. This is your best one yet. To walk with me along the Way of the Barefoot Zombie is to transcend your humanity. To become one of the masters, not one of the prey.

  "Under my tutelage you will learn to use great powers. You may not realise it but you have already learned to use one of the prime magical systems of our age. I am talking about money.

  "We in the Western world are not conditioned to think of money as magic. But that is what it is. I amassed a fortune in hedge funds before I realised this. Before I saw money for what it is. A spirit that mediates in the affairs of men. One that assures people reach agreement when buying and selling. One that decides who profits and who loses. A spirit that establishes the natural order of society, raising up some to great heights of power and laying others low.

  "'Ah yes,' you might say to me. 'But that is not the way that money works. Money is not an immaterial spirit. It sits here in my wallet, it lies in my bank account and it pays for my homes.'" He took a hundred dollar bill from his pocket. "What is this note though? It is not the things you can buy with it. It is a promise to pay the bearer on demand an agreed sum. But what is the bearer being paid on demand? Where does this sum come from?

  "Anyone with even a pedestrian knowledge of banking will tell you that money is created with a push of a button every time some poor slob takes out a loan. That loan itself becomes an asset to be sold on by the bank.

  "The price of the asset is based on the amount of interest the moron will be paying for the rest of his life. Yet any economist will tell you that this system of monetary creation is incapable of generating enough capital to repay any of this interest.

  "Yet if the pathetic slob fails to repay the same interest that our economy is incapable of generating, we come and take his car, his house and all of his dignity while we're at it. Because he failed to give back to us something that never existed in the first place. By taking the guy's house in lieu of the loan, which as I've established never existed in the first place, the bank literally gets something for nothing.

  "Smoke and mirrors, it's the ultimate conjuring trick, creating something out of nothing. Magic my friends. Magic pure and simple.

  "Still don't believe me? Then let us look at what magic is. Consider Voodoo and the service of the Loa. What is the magical system that a Houngan uses? It is simply a means to impose his will upon the world using a series of symbols imbued with power through ritual and ceremony. A Houngan draws symbols called Vévés on the ground to conjure up the Loa, the spirits that will do his bidding.

  "He then bargains with the Loa to impart power to the symbols he makes or draws on paper. How does he bargain? Through ritual and ceremony. A group of believers come together at a preordained place to act in a preordained manner in order to bring power to their symbols so that they can invisibly affect the world to their benefit.

  "Now let us look at the stock market. Consider what happens when some klepto-communist gets elected leader of some third world country then starts to threaten land reform and nationalisation. The first thing we do on the stock market is speculate against their currency to drive down its value. Then when the country is on its knees with hyper inflation and spiralling unemployment, where does it turn but the IMF, desperate for a loan.

  "The IMF agrees the loan on the condition that the country implements stringent economic measures. These of course will include abolishing minimum wage and mass privatisations, allowing Western companies to move in and snap up local resources at bargain prices.

  "This has been accomplished many times from Latin America to South Africa without any show of force. How is this done? Quite simply, a group of people known as traders come together at a preordained place known as the stock market and act in a preordained manner. They do this to bring power to a group of symbols known as the currency index so that they can invisibly affect another nation's economy to their benefit.

  "A hand is raised on a stock market floor. A series of symbols appear on a screen and a whole nation is placed in complete thrall to another. Magic plain and simple."

  Doc Papa spread his arms wide and smiled. The audience were transfixed by his words.

  "Like all magic however, money is purely a means to an ends and not, as many peasants believe, an end in itself. Like all magic it also takes a little while to master, but with the right teacher you can use it to accomplish anything. To change the world in any way you want"

  Tatyana felt a thrill run through the audience at the prospect of attaining such knowledge. They were sitting up in their seats, rapt with attention.

  "Before you can change the world," said Doc Papa. "You have to change yourself. You have to shed the last vestiges of that enfeebling impediment we like to call our humanity. You must be reborn as something more than human. Something shorn of all the frailties and defects that confine the others to the common herd. Something a little like this..."

  Doc Papa bent down and picked up a large metal ring that was attached to two heavy chains. The chains ran into two trapdoors that had opened in the stage. They were attached to two metal collars around the necks of two figures that rose up from inside the trapdoors.

  Tatyana's felt a jolt of anticipation when she realised what they were. She turned to Benjamin. He grinned back with excitement and grabbed her hand. This was the reason they came to St Ignatius. For the first time they got to see the noble monsters they had travelled so far to save.

  The figures were motionless. Their bodies were limp and their eyes lifeless. Their skin had the pallid texture of a corpse. Doc Papa clicked his fingers. With a shudder that ran the length of their bodies, the figures started to move.

  Their nostrils started working first. They flared them like animals scenting the breeze. They bared their teeth and started to gnash them. Mouths that didn't look capable of eating showed a grim parody of hunger.

  Their muscles began to twitch and twist their bodies into clumsy postures of menace. Both figures crouched low, then, with an unexpected burst of speed, they sprang at the audience.

  Doc Papa yanked on the chains and they stopped just short of the front row. Their heads jerked about as they caught the scent of flesh. Like wild animals they snapped at the prey that was just out of reach.

  Their decaying bodies could not accommodate the ferocity of their appetites. The violence of their actions strained the tendons and ligatures of their arms as they flailed and clawed at the living.

  The skin across the cheek of one began to tear as the jaws worked ferociously. A loose tooth flew out of th
e ragged hole as its jaws clamped down on empty air.

  The people in the front row scrambled out of their seats. While those in the back rows craned forward to get a better look. There was an intense excitement in the room. A grim fascination that came from witnessing a very real threat to their lives.

  "Magnificent aren't they?" Doc Papa said as he tugged the chains they were straining at. "Look at how they thirst for your blood. How can you not admire that single minded sense of purpose? That hunger so great they would destroy their bodies just to feed it. Is there anyone here who thinks they would survive an encounter with them? Anyone care to brave it if I let one off the leash? No? I thought as much.

  "What it is that makes them dangerous? Unlike them, your bodies work and your brains function? So why could they physically overcome any of you?

  "Because they want it more. They are not confused by the things that inhibit you, like a conscience or social custom. Their hunger is raw and real and quite, quite prefect."

  "Rete!," Doc Papa commanded. "Dans le nom des Gédés, Rete!" The figures dropped their arms to their sides and became perfectly still. "Isit." The figures turned their backs on the audience and walked towards him. At his signal they turned to face the audience once more, placid and still.

  "If there are any among you who still doubt the existence of magic, look now upon the proof. I instilled that terrifying drive in them and I alone control it. You can instil it in yourselves without having to give up your lives as they have. That is what you came here to learn.

  "It is this drive that I am referring to when I speak of your 'Inner Zombie'. It is the first of many powerful secrets you will discover when you walk in the footsteps of the Barefoot Zombie.

  "This is how you dominate the market and impose your will upon it. This is how you become its master, not one of the timid quislings who are prey to its fluctuations.

  "Any decent economist will tell you that the market works best when it's free of government intervention or regulation. This is the nature of the beast you must tame. To take hold of it and make it submit to your bidding, you must let go of anything that confines you. Any cloying weakness with which society has tied your hands. Once you have released your Inner Zombie you have the power to enslave the wildest of free markets.

  "Before you can release your Inner Zombie and instil your own terrifying drive you have to encounter it. You have to meet it head on and find out what it is. You must discover what you are truly capable of being.

  "These will be the first steps you take along the Way of the Barefoot Zombie. They will be the most terrifying and the most empowering thing you have ever done with your lives. You have spoken many times about 'making a killing on the markets' without once getting blood on your hands. It is time to learn what killing is really about.

  "These two Zombies are far from the only two specimens here on the island. Any cheap necromancer can raise a couple of corpses and command them. I have created the world's first and only captive colony of Zombies.

  "There has never been a better opportunity for studying the Zombie. For living with them, acting like them and learning to become one of them. That is what you are going to do over the coming weeks."

  Chapter Five

  Once Doc Papa's lecture was over, the head Group Encounter leader came on and told them what to expect over the next few days. Tatyana's mind drifted off. She was far more interested in the half hour of memory she had suddenly lost and then regained.

  That woman Miriam Chevalier was responsible. She'd done something to her mind. Tatyana was sure of it.

  Tatyana looked over to where Miriam was seated. There was a strange, hazy field all around her. It was hard to look at Miriam and Tatyana's eyes kept wanting to slide away and look else where. This only intrigued Tatyana more, and she concentrated harder on looking at Miriam, fighting the impulse to look away and forget all about her.

  Why had this woman reached into Tatyana's mind and taken away her memory? More importantly, how had she done that?

  Tatyana watched as Miriam stood and left her seat. Partly because of the field around her, and partly because everyone was paying attention to the stage, Miriam was able to slip away without anyone noticing.

  Tatyana knew she had to follow. She slipped out of her seat and headed to the back of the theatre.

  Unlike Miriam, she didn't have any field around her to deflect scrutiny. Several heads turned as she sneaked away. Tatyana tried her best not to catch anyone's eye.

  Benjamin had gone on for ages about how important it was not to draw attention to themselves. She knew he was right. But she also knew this was more important.

  Miriam turned her head, aware she was being followed. Tatyana bent down behind a row of chairs and pretended to adjust the Jimmy Choo shoes Benjamin had insisted she buy.

  When she looked back up Miriam didn't seem to have spotted her. Tatyana had spotted something of interest though. Miriam's field left a ghost trail behind her. If she looked carefully, Tatyana could just catch sight of it out of the corner of her eye.

  She slipped off the shoes so her heels didn't clatter on the floor. Then, acting on an instinct that surprised her, she chased after Miriam, stepping inside the ghost trail.

  She had no idea why, but the trail lent her the same ability to deflect attention as Miriam's field. Not even Miriam noticed her so long as she stayed within it. This wasn't always easy though. The trail had a tendency to waft in an out of Miriam's footsteps as if an invisible breeze was blowing it. Tatyana had to side step quite a bit to stay inside it.

  She followed Miriam out of the lecture theatre and around a corner into a corridor she hadn't seen before. Miriam raced along at a pace Tatyana found hard to match. Even at such speed she moved with a grace that was effortless.

  Miriam opened a service door at the end of the long corridor and snuck through it. Tatyana ran to catch the door before it swung shut. The narrow passageway beyond wasn't as opulent as the rest of the annex. Bare pipes and electric wires ran along the unpainted concrete walls.

  At the end of the passageway a metal staircase descended into a large service bay. Food goods and domestic products were stacked against concrete pillars in large polythene wrapped palettes.

  Miriam moved through the bay onto a large walkway. At the end of this was a hi-tech security door with long corridors running off to the left and right. Miriam stopped at the door and took out a piece of red chalk. She drew several symbols on the wall around a card-swipe mechanism that looked like an electronic lock. The symbols looked similar to those she'd seen on the screens drawn in white powder.

  Tatyana stood in the shadows and watched as Miriam prayed under her breath. She seemed to be in a trance. Miriam took out a card and ran it through the swipe on the wall.

  The lights went out. Tatyana couldn't see a thing. She wedged herself into a corner as the sound of running feet hurtled towards them.

  "This is a restricted area Ma'am," said a man's voice. "You just tripped the alarm. I'm going to have to ask you to stand still with your hands on your head."

  Two torch beams clicked on. Both beams were directed at Miriam and Tatyana could see the torches were mounted on the automatic weapons of two guards.

  Tatyana was very nervous. She'd seen the guards all over the island. They tried to maintain a discreet presence in front of the guests but now they were pointing guns at a guest Tatyana had followed into a restricted area.

  Way to go not calling attention to yourself, she thought.

  The guards clicked off their night-vision goggles.

  "You're not supposed to be down here Ma'am. You're life is in danger. Not just from us. There's an army of the undead on the other side of that door. I'm going to have to ask you to lie face down with your hands behind your back."

  Instead of doing what the guards told her, Miriam looked up at the ceiling and began to mutter something in a whispered voice.

  "Ma'am get on the floor please," said the guard, his tone more urgent now.r />
  "On the floor Bitch! Now!" shouted the other guard, taking a step closer to her.

  Tatyana's heart was pounding in her chest. She hardly dared breathe and one of her legs shook so hard she couldn't stop it. They were going to shoot her. Tatyana knew they were and Miriam wasn't doing a thing about it.

  Tatyana closed her eyes and waited for the shot. She wished she wasn't an atheist. That she believed in anything enough to pray to it right now. She pictured a stained glass window of the Virgin Mary she'd once seen that had changed the way she felt about religion. It was the closest she'd ever come to having faith in something. She held the image in her mind like an invisible guardian and begged it to stop the guards finding her.

  Instead of hearing a shot Tatyana felt a calm and loving presence all around her. Was this the Virgin Mary?

  Don't worry, I won't let any harm befall those who love me.

  Tatyana was confused. But I'm an atheist, she thought. The tone of the presence changed at this. It was still warm and loving but she could swear it was laughing. The same way her mother would laugh when, as a little girl, Tatyana had said something cute without realising it. Then the presence faded.

  Tatyana looked around the corner and saw something even weirder. The guards weren't moving. They stood staring straight ahead without any expression.

  Miriam was reaching her fingers out to the air either side of the guards' temples and coaxing what looked like a fine black mist out of their heads. Tatyana blinked and looked again, sure that she hadn't seen what she thought she was seeing.

  But there it was. The black mist and Miriam's fingers. What was she doing to them? Why weren't they moving? Was that their memories Miriam was taking? Was that what Miriam had done to her earlier?